The Distant Promise
The Great Hall of Blackwood Manor did not merely stand; it presided. For three centuries, its stone bones had weathered the slow erosion of time, yet the air within remained thick, heavy with the scent of damp velvet and the faint, metallic tang of old blood that no amount of scrubbing could fully expiate. It was a place where shadows pooled like ink in the corners, and where the light from the...
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